Written to Life
by Hufflepuff-Sunflower
Summary: Human AU. Ivan writes, as an escape from his life. After a horrid turn of events, things start to get better when the things he writes in his new notebook become real... but soon, it is clear to Ivan and his new friends that something sinister is underfoot. Something that could end the boy's life. Now, it's a race against the clock. (More characters than those listed.)


_**Hey~! I know I should be working on my other stories, but inspiration hit me for this. It's also an experiment for first-person, so can you please tell me how that goes? **_

_**Oh, by the way... you might see this as fairly dark in certain places. That always tends to happen to my writing...**_

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_**Written to Life**_

_**Chapter One**_

_I run towards the chest, but stop to admire it. It's beautifully made, with dark, smooth wood, and a solid gold lock. Whoever made this must've been very wealthy. Too bad for them, because the treasure's ours now!_

_"Move it, Ivan!" spits William, peeking around the doorframe. "They're coming!" I can hear the guards coming down the long, stone hallway as I break open the lock on the chest. He doesn't need to worry. We've still got time. Time helps me pile the gold and jewels into the bag on my back, before slamming the chest closed._

_"Guys! I found the way out!" shouts Kyle, a few metres away from us. He's standing beside a tunnel. It looks darker in there than it is in here..._

"Big brother."

Natalya's voice brings me back to reality, as I quickly stuff my faded blue notebook under my pillow. "Yes, Natalya? What's happened?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to see what you were doing."

"I was doing homework," I lie. Every time I show someone my stories, something bad happens. Once, last month, I told someone, and they laughed, before burning the notebook in the fireplace, and calling me useless. That was the last proper conversation I had with my father. If that's what people think... I don't want my little sister to think of me like that. As for others, I don't really care.

"You never do your homework, big brother," she says, stepping into my room. She's wearing the blue dress I got her for her birthday, even though it's near the end of December. "What were you writing this time?"

I gape at her for a moment, before it hits me. Of course she knows. Natalya seems to know everything about me- even things I don't tell her. I think she's stalking me, or something. But why would she do that? "Oh, nothing really." She shrugs, and turns to my bookshelf. Instead of pulling out one of the novels, by an actually _good_ author, she pulls out a thin book- one of my old notebooks, from about two years ago, when I was her age. "Natalya, _please..._"

"It's... cool that you write stories, big brother," she says, giving me a small smile. Smiles are rare from Natalya (she's more the type to glare) so I can't help but smile, too. But I want to change the topic before she gets too deep into the notebook... whenever people read my stories, they always tend to think that there's something seriously wrong with me. (Then again, everyone seems to think that... I don't know why, though.) That's how I lost the only friend I've ever had. Well... it wasn't exactly his fault. ("You're, like, totally weird. Come on, Toris," said the boy wearing the bright pink skirt.)

"Has Father cooked dinner yet?" I ask, taking the book out of her hands. She shakes her head. "Well, why don't I make something?"

"If there's even anything _left_." She follows me to the kitchen, holding onto my coat sleeve. She looks in all the lower cupboards, while I look in all the higher ones. "Just as I thought..." she mutters, standing up fully, crossing her arms.

"No, wait!" I shout, reaching into the back corner of one of the cupboards. "There's some two-minute noodles back here!" It would probably surprise people that there's never much food in the house, but not Natalya and I. Our father spends more money on alcohol and cigarettes than he does on us. He doesn't even get us new clothes when we need them. I've grown too much for this coat, so it's short in the arms, but it's the only one I have.

After the noodles are cooked, we sit at the rickety table in the centre of the kitchen. I'm so hungry... the last time I ate was two nights ago. And that was only a stale sandwich.

"You remember what day it is tomorrow, don't you, big brother?"

"Of course. It's my birthday. Why?" Tomorrow is December 30th, or, my sixteenth birthday.

"Well, last year you forgot."

I nod my head, smiling a bit. Yes, I _did_ forget last year. But this year, Mother and my big sister Katyusha are coming to visit on their way back from Kiev. Usually, they'd stay the night here, but they're only dropping in, because they need to return to Saint Petersburg as soon as possible.

"Big brother," Natalya says, waving her hand in front of my face. "You were spacing out again."

"Huh? Oh. Sorry. Natalya, when you finish, it's time for bed, okay?"

"...Alright..." She mutters something, but I don't hear. A shiver runs down my spine. I think I know what she said... you see, Natalya's sure that she's going to marry me someday. And it's not just one of those cutesy things little sisters apparently do. Natalya's dead serious. That, added to the (possible) stalking, scares me a lot. And not many things scare me anymore. (When I was little, every day was a living nightmare.)

Is it bad that the two things I'm afraid of most in the world are the two family members I live with?

We sneak through the living room, trying not to wake Father, who's asleep on the lounge, an empty bottle on the floor beneath his open hand. His loud snores follow us to our rooms. "Goodnight, Natalya," I whisper, kissing her on the forehead. She returns my hug a little too tightly. "O-okay, that's enough..."

It takes hours for me to get to sleep. It's freezing cold, and the blankets don't help much. I say 'blankets', but really, they're just sheets.

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**_A/N- Just so you know... I changed some characters names. You'll see why at the end.  
William- England  
Tim- Canada_****_Kyle- Australia_**

**_...I like to imagine Russia and Australia as being somewhat friends, okay? What, YOU'VE never imagined your favourite country and your country being friends? XP_**

**_You're probably wondering... "What are the pairings going to be for this story~?" Well, there's only going to be one- RussLiech~ And it's just feelings and stuff. XD I don't know any more about romance than that. _**

**_Thank you for making it this far, and I hope you continue to read this story! The beginning may be a bit boring, (soisthebeginningofharrypotterandthephilosopher'sstone) but once the fantasy element comes in, it'll be much more interesting. (I hope.)_**

**_See you (well, not really...) next time! Please leave a review, and tell me what you think, or if I've made any spelling/grammar mistakes! (Just so you know, I'm Australian, so some words are different to American English. Juuust thought I'd like to add that.)_**

**_Have a nice day~ :D_**


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